


I got the green light. I got a little fight. I'm gonna turn this thing around (can you read my mind?)

by PitchonthePitch



Series: AUgust Soulmate AU's [5]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Drinking, Everyone Is Gay, Friendship, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Sad, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 06:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20130811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitchonthePitch/pseuds/PitchonthePitch
Summary: Day 5 of August Soulmate AU’s:Telepathy - You can communicate telepathically with your soulmate.Quentin's soulmate won't stop listening to dubstep.  He complains to Eliot, who has even bigger problems with his own soulmate.





	I got the green light. I got a little fight. I'm gonna turn this thing around (can you read my mind?)

Quentin sat down and buried his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples to try and will away the noise in his head.

Beside him, Eliot’s voice cut through the noise. “Your soulmate’s listening to music again?”

“Dance music,” Quentin groaned, “blaring inside my head at all hours of the day. Honestly, I think maybe she’s just trying to torture me. Or ‘he.’ “Or ‘they.’” He was thoughtful. “I can’t tell if they’re a guy or girl just based on how they sound in my head. Somehow, I’ve never felt the need to ask. I’ve only ever dated girls, but I think I’d be open to loving someone of any gender.”

Eliot looked bored. “Yes, Q, I knew you were a disaster bi from the moment I met you.”

“Or pan,” Quentin murmured. “I haven’t figured out which yet.”

Eliot hummed. He always acted this way, when talk of soulmates came about. Quiet. Quentin worried when he got this way. “What about you?” he asked El.

“Me? I’m as gay as ever and getting gayer. That’s a good color on you, by the way.” He was eyeing Quentin’s blue sweater.

“Not what I meant,” Quentin said, though he made a mental note to wear the sweater more.

Eliot looked away. “I know what you meant, Q.”

“You never talk about him.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Eliot crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. He had all the defiance of a five-year-old, Quentin thought. “Soulmates are bullshit, anyway.”

The music changed to a faster-paced song with more bass thumping. Quentin groaned. He laid down on the couch and settled his head in El’s lap. “Do you really believe soulmates are bullshit?”

“...Well, the alternative is that soulmates are real: I only have one person out there who can make me happy, and should I fail to find him, get him to fall in love with me, and also fall in love with him myself, then I’ll be alone forever. So, yeah. I believe soulmates are bullshit. I kind of have to.” Eliot gently nudged Quentin’s head off his lap and moved off the couch. “Fuck soulmates; I need a drink.”

“Bring me one,” Quentin called after him. Maybe if he got drunk enough, he’d pass out and be free of the bass pumping in his temple.

“Coming right up.”

Eliot brought back his signature cocktails. They drank together in silence for a moment. “He doesn’t speak English,” Eliot said.

“Excuse me?”

“My soulmate. He doesn’t speak English. I can’t even tell what language he speaks; I’ve never heard it before.” Eliot took a big swig of his cocktail. “If I can’t even talk to him, then how am I ever supposed to find him?”

“Oh, Eliot.” Quentin squeezed his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe we could talk to someone from the Library about tracking him down.”

“Maybe,” Eliot said. “Maybe he doesn’t want me to find him. I’m going to go get a second round. Care for another cocktail, Q?”

“No, I’m okay. You might want to slow down, too, El.”

“I’m fine.” El got up and headed for the kitchen again. Quentin couldn’t wait until Margo got back from her weekend in Cabo with Alice. She was so much better at talking him down than Quentin.

He felt bad for Eliot. He knew Eliot’s coming out experience had been rough, growing up on a farm in the deep South. But the idea that Eliot was unable to talk to his soulmate for those years hurt Quentin’s heart a little. Quentin’s soulmate could be a dick, yeah, but they were still the one constant he had in his life. He hated the thought that Eliot might never get to meet his.

The music in Quentin’s head stopped. He let out a sigh of relief.

_Hey._ He waited with bated breath for his soulmate’s reply.

_...Hey._ _You gonna complain about my music again?_

_No,_ he answered back. _I want to meet._

_Oh. You do?_ The other voice raised in pitch. If Quentin didn’t know any better, he’d think his soulmate sounded… almost… hopeful?

_Yeah._ A flutter of nervousness bloomed in his chest. _...Do you?_

_Yeah. I do, actually. When?_

Quentin smiled. Maybe when he met his soulmate, they would have ideas on how Eliot could track down his own. And in the meantime, maybe they could help Quentin solve his sexuality crisis…

_...Oh my God, you're so lame. If that's the best come on you can think of, you are so not getting any when we meet._

_Sooo, you're saying if I can think of something better, then I might get lucky?_

Quentin swore he could hear his soulmate flipping him the bird.


End file.
